


Spiders, Socks and Flying Motorbikes

by Dark_Amortentia



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aurors, Cruelty, Death Eaters, Memories, Neglect
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-27 23:27:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5068987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark_Amortentia/pseuds/Dark_Amortentia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thirty-seven year old Harry Potter is chasing a dark wizard when he unexpectedly finds himself locked in the cupboard under the stairs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spiders, Socks and Flying Motorbikes

The little alleyway in Surry was quiet, the cobbles shimmering from the morning’s light drizzle, while a gentle breeze rustled bits of old newspaper articles in a lazy swirl. 

But the wind suddenly grew stronger and there was a slight electric spark to it as though it knew that something beyond normal physics was about to happen. 

CRACK! 

A cloaked man—a wizard in fact, appeared out of nowhere. He had no time to check his surrounding, running as fast as he could, his wand out and ready. He crashed past boxes of bottles and rubbish.

POP!

Another wizard appeared. He was not cloaked, but he wore a black coat, jeans and glasses, his untidy black hair, dishevelled. “Stupefy!” he roared ahead. The red light exploded on the alley wall. It just missed the cloaked wizard who had snaked around the corner.

“FUCK!” Harry potter yelled into the air. He chased the wizard. He was not going to let this bastard go again. Another pop behind him suggested that his best friend Ron Weasley had followed him. 

“Harry!” Ron yelled, running behind him.

Harry ignored him. He stopped at the edge of the alley, looked left and right, frustrated. Muggles were walking the street as usual, carrying on their daily business, more so, since it was a lovely relaxing Saturday. The sun was peeking out of the grey clouds, like it was playing peekaboo with the people below. Cars and buses drove past in an orderly fashion. Shop bells dinged and pigeons flapped their wings. 

Harry panted and watched, looking for anyone who would easily stand out in the crowd. Although, unluckily for him, it seemed that a few of the Muggles had taken up to wearing cloaks as a fashion statement these days, making it harder to spot a real wizard amongst the latest faux par. Uncle Vernon would be mortified, Harry vaguely thought. 

Ron had caught up with him. “Was that Marcus Dolton?”

Harry lifted his hand, shutting his friend up. “Just look around for that guy… he won’t be running in a busy Muggle Street. He’d be hiding or walking casually.”

And then Harry spotted him. The wizard had briefly turned around; his pale blue eyes shone almost white in the light as he scanned the alleyway he had come from. Locking eyes with Harry he bolted, knocking over a Muggle woman in the process.

Harry and Ron resumed their chase. Marcus Dolton was a criminal wanted by the Ministry for torturing a Muggle-borns a year ago. He was not a Death Eater, but he was just a stupid misguided kid who didn’t know what he wanted in life, Harry guessed and his bad upbringing didn’t help. Dolton hadn’t killed anyone, but he had the same sentiments of wanting a society with pure lines and that’s what worried Harry. Voldemort was dead for 19 years, most of the Death Eaters after the war had been imprisoned, but it didn’t stop people from idolising Voldemort, which disgusted Harry. These situations were rare nowadays. Even though his scar had not pained him, was happy, had a loving family, it did not stop that black seed of doubt occasionally start growing whenever situations like these arose.

Harry and Ron had been shopping around for Hermione’s birthday present in Diagon Alley. Harry had never wanted to be dragged out of the house on a quiet Saturday morning. He was looking forward to making pancakes with his daughter Lily, and then Ron’s head appeared in the fire grate, looking quite furious with himself.

“Harry,” Ron’s head spoke, quite morose. Actually he whispered as though he was scared of the ramifications. “I forgot Hermione’s birthday… no wonder she hasn’t been speaking with me for two days!”

Covering his daughter’s ears Harry replied, “Ron…you are an arse!” Although Lily had deduced what her father had said and started to giggle at her uncle’s expense. 

Ron reddened like beet, and stared rather dourly back as the flames crackled around him. “Please help!”

So Harry pulled Ron out of the grate, eventually made the pancakes (which were delicious) and they both Flood to the Leaky Cauldron with the mission to find a very nice, very expensive present for Hermione. 

“Ron… the Firebolt Excellere is not what Hermione would love! So get your head out of the clouds!” Harry spat.

“But—“

“A book!”

“Oh come on, Harry, that’s just so bloody typical and predictable! I’ve been getting her books for every birthday and Christmas for years now. I want to get her something different this year, you know.”

Harry turned around, ignoring the whispers and the looks from the wizard and witches pointing in his direction. “Fair enough get her something she’d adore, like a necklace… and a book,” he added. 

Ron resigned to that fact. “Oh all right! A book and a necklace… and that romantic dinner, Lily suggested. There’s a jewellery store next to—“

That was when Harry spotted Marcus Dolton loitering in a dark corner, his frightful eyes watching. Strands of his long white blonde hair cascaded down. A chase had ensured straight after. 

Now Harry would not dare use magic in a Muggle place unless it was self defence. The Auror Department’s paperwork would’ve been astronomical. No, he waited for Dolton to try and strike back and even injure the Muggles around him. Thank Merlin he didn’t. You see, he’s just a scared fool, Harry inwardly smirked as he dodged a mother pushing a pram. 

He was getting closer to that cloaked figure and then—“

Crash! Harry fell backwards onto the concrete. Shopping bags filled with tinned food, bottled tomato sauce, vegetables, a bottle of wine and packets of crisps and lollies, flew into the air and splattered all over the pavement. It wasn’t a curse that had hit him. Harry had smashed into a broad tall man who had crossed his path. Harry felt as though he had smashed into a brick wall! 

“Daddy,” a little girl yelled somewhere in front. 

Harry massaged his head, picked himself up, albeit a little stunned, yelled back at the man, “Really sorry!” and started to sprint again, not willing to let Dolton go. He was pleased to see Ron hadn’t stopped to help him and was closing in on Dolton.

“Harry!” The man shouted back. He was still sitting on the pavement, his little family around him. 

Harry turned back, only for a moment, intrigued. What Muggle would recognise him? He knew no one close, except for the Grangers…

“Harry, it’s me Dudley…”

Harry panted; shocked… he hadn’t seen his cousin in eleven years, not since James’s first birthday party and that didn’t go all too well smoothly with Dudley being overwhelmed by all the magic around him. They only sent each other Christmas cards now every year. Harry didn’t even recognise him. “Oh Dud… sorry mate, good to see you, but I can’t stop and chat right now. Bye!” 

He caught up with Ron around the corner, entered a small winding street, Dolton tripped, Both Harry and Ron latched themselves onto the sprawled whrithing body. Then Dolton Disapparated from his spot, taking Ron and Harry with him for a hell of a ride. 

Ron was yelling, Harry bit his lip drawing blood and then they all crash landed in another Muggle street, this time suburbia by the looks of it, with a small park attached. 

Ron was flung headlong into a shrub, but Harry fell side ways onto a car, cracking the window and denting the door. He set off the car’s alarm. As it blared into their ears, and dogs started howling close by, Harry caught Dolton blowing a Muggle house door off its hinges and disappeared inside. 

“Are you all right?” Harry asked as Ron as he pulled his bleeding friend out of the shrubs, looking around, making sure no Muggles were watching. 

“Yeah I’m fine, you?”

“Never better,” said Harry wiping blood away from his temple. “He’s in that house. I’ll take the front, you go round the back.” Ron nodded and he silenced the car alarm before jumping over the small brick fence to tackle Dolton if he escaped via the back.

He slowly entered the dark house. No one was home it looked like. Thank God, thought Harry. He walked through as quietly as possible. He tried switching the light on, but Dolton had cut the powerlines. His wand flared into warm light.

“Dolton, I know you’re in here still,” Harry said loudly. He walked slowly through the darkened hallway. Harry could hear the fridge buzzing in the kitchen and a clock chime.

It was then he noticed that the door to the cupboard under the stairs was opened. Harry carefully positioned himself behind the door and slowly moved it open. No one was in there.

But then, behind him Dolton appeared with a crack, slammed Harry inside so forcibly that he blew the light bulb, smashed into the tins of paint inside, knocking it all onto the floor and somehow managed to get himself tangled in a wad of Christmas lights. The door was closed.

“DOLTON!” Harry shouted, tripping, banging on the door. 

Alohomora, Harry thought, straightening himself, which was a little difficult with the Christmas lights attached to him like a weedy vine. The cupboard door did not open. “ALOHOMORA!” It still remained shut. Harry gripped the door handle and shook. Nothing happened. He then resorted to crashing his body weight into the door, hoping to break it open. “What the!”

“Harry?” Ron’s sweet voice.

“RON, I’M STUCK IN HERE! What happened to Dolton?”

“It’s ok, I got the little shit! I got him restrained.”

“Good, get him to open the door.”

Harry heard the wizard’s raspy laugh. 

“What’s so funny, huh?” Ron asked him.  
“I can’t open it only a blood relative can.” Dolton laughed. 

Harry heard a thump and a ‘ow’ reverberate outside the cupboard door.

“Ron you need to stop knocking suspects unconscious!” Harry yelled.


End file.
